remained in their rooms. The
dazzling sunlight cast bars of light between the shutters. Not a sound
in the village, not a soul on the sidewalk. This silence intensified the
tranquility of everything. In the distance, the hammers of some calkers
pounded the hull of a ship, and the sultry breeze brought them an odour
of tar.

The principal diversion consisted in watching the return of the
fishing-smacks. As soon as they passed the beacons, they began to ply
to windward. The sails were lowered to one third of the masts, and with
their fore-sails swelled up like balloons they glided over the waves and
anchored in the middle of the harbour. Then they crept up alongside of
the dock and the sailors threw the quivering fish over the side of the
boat; a line of carts was waiting for them, and women with white caps
sprang forward to receive the baskets and embrace their men-folk.

One day, one of them spoke to Felicite, who, after a little while,
returned to the house gleefully. She had found one of her sisters, and
presently Nastasie Barette, wife of Leroux, made her appearance, holding
an infant in her arms, another child by the hand, while on her left was
a little cabin-boy with his hands in his pockets and his cap on his ear.

At the end of fifteen minutes, Madame Aubain bade her go.

They always hung around the kitchen, or approached Felicite when she
and the children were out walking. The husband, however, did not show
himself.

Felicite developed a great fondness for them; she bought them a stove,
some shirts and a blanket; it was evident that they exploited her.
Her foolishness annoyed Madame Aubain, who, moreover did not like the
nephew's familiarity, for he called her son "thou";--and, as Virginia
began to cough and the season was over, she decided to return to
Pont-l'Eveque.

Monsieur Bourais assisted her in the choice of a college. The one at
Caen was considered the best. So Paul was sent away and bravely said
good-bye to them all, for he was glad to go to live in a house where he
would have boy companions.

Madame Aubain resigned herself to the separation from her son because
it was unavoidable. Virginia brooded less and less over it. Felicite
regretted the noise he made, but soon a new occupation diverted her
mind; beginning from Christmas, she accompanied the little girl to her
catechism lesson every day.

CHAPTER III

After she had made a curtsey at the threshold, she would walk up the
aisle betw